


To Our Better Natures

by Meatball42



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers in Wakanda, Gen, Late Night Conversations, POV T'Challa, Philosophy, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sneaky Natasha Romanov, Stargazing, Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanov’s reception in Wakanda is not warm-hearted. T’Challa sees an opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Our Better Natures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



The attack on the UN building in Vienna, and all the events that followed, were two months in the past when Natasha Romanov requested entry to Wakanda. She was discreet, and it was a simple matter for T’Challa to send someone to bring her from the border to his family’s ancestral home on the Alkama Fields, where he was hiding the Avengers. When his guards presented her at the manor, T’Challa barely gave her time to rest before he reintroduced her to her teammates, without providing either side any warning.

It wasn’t exactly fair play. An emotional argument broke out amongst the Avengers, airing old hurts and new betrayals alike, and it should have been deeply private. If he wanted to offer them any kindness, T’Challa ought to have left.

But he had invited these dangerous people into his precious country, into his own home; however worthy his reasons, he had a responsibility to ensure their presence would not turn Wakanda into a crater.

Clint Barton was the first to run away, storming out of the meeting room in a rage. Wanda Maximoff followed him with wet cheeks and shaking fists. Before long, Scott Lang slipped out quietly, and soon after Sam Wilson took three deep breaths and declared himself unable to keep talking. Natasha Romanov went from flushing cheeks and engaging expressions to stony-blank in a blink’s time, then disappeared, and Steve Rogers, the last one to leave, sat down and stared at his hands, elbows braced on his knees and a heavy furrow across his forehead.

T’Challa didn’t come up with a grand fix to the Avengers’ problems by watching them fight. He didn’t even discover whether the broken and twisted team would heal, eventually. But he hadn’t expected to. He only wanted to learn more information. A solution, if it existed, would come in time.

He did, however, hear one accusation that stood out from the rest, as he stood tucked in a corner and quiet enough to be forgotten, or ignored in the face of louder and more immediate priorities. Among the various indictments thrown from one friend to another, there was one which T’Challa thought warranted correction.

He found Natasha Romanov on the roof in the dry night air, laying on her back on the soft white clay that bounced the sun back to the sky and kept the house cool. The moonlight warmed her creamy skin, and made the shiny, barely-scabbed scar from her temple to her cheekbone stand out. She had her hands behind her head and one ankle resting on a raised knee, and when she saw T’Challa approaching she began to sit up, wincing with the effort of ignoring some hidden injury.

“Please, do not rise, Miss Romanov. Midnight is no time to stand on ceremony.” He sat alongside her, a respectful distance apart, and settled back with his face to the stars.

Romanov winced as she relaxed again, but a wry smile twisted her lips. “Forgive me, Your Highness. It’s been a while since I was off the clock.”

T’Challa nodded. “I feel the same way. I have spent the last month in meeting after meeting, travelling internationally as well as within Wakanda. I have barely had time to spar.”

He felt her gaze on the side of his face. “Surely you arrange your own schedule.”

“I go where I am needed. There is much turmoil at present, both near and far. Recent events…” T’Challa shook his head, eyes fixed on the moon-tinted clouds flying far above. “The forces that govern the world have shifted. I can only hope that my skills are enough to lead Wakanda through the storms ahead.”

They lay in silence for long minutes. A breeze trailed across the roof, bringing the scents of tall grasses, rich earth, and the fires of the craftsmen on the edges of town. T’Challa relaxed further. The familiar surroundings brought him back to his childhood here, when he would run through the plains with his sisters and friends. Until they were called inside for lessons or meals, the freedom was absolute.

T’Challa couldn’t remember when he last ran simply for the pleasure of running, and not for training- or in pursuit. Royalty came with many benefits, but personal freedom was not one of them.

“I’m surprised you want to talk to me, considering the way we last saw each other,” Romanov said after a few clouds had gone by.

“You acted to stop me from killing an innocent man,” T’Challa said calmly. “I do not hold that against you.”

“Tony does. And the rest of them blame me for defending the people we could hurt in the future.”

Romanov’s quiet words were openly bitter. T’Challa blinked, surprised and suspicious that she would be so open in his presence. Perhaps she had a plan of her own for him? Well, in any case, there was only one answer that would serve his purposes.

And it was what he felt was the right thing to do, besides. Tonight, for this one small thing, the best strategic move and what T’Challa’s better nature wanted could be the same.

“A personal betrayal is difficult to forgive. And perhaps harder than that is to accept that the act was not personal.”

“I fought Steve. And Sam. And Wanda.”

In his peripheral vision, T’Challa saw Romanov cross her arms over her chest. The breeze continued, soothing.

“You valued innocent lives over blind loyalty. I would not keep a friend who supported me when I put lives at risk. And I expect your friends feel the same way. They will come to understand your choices, with time.”

Romanov made a sound that originated as a laugh, but got caught somewhere in her throat. “You haven’t spent much time talking to Clint or Steve, have you?”

T’Challa shook his head. “I cannot say I agree with your choice to let Rogers and Barnes escape, when I look around at what we have wrought. But there is a chance that in a year, or ten years, or twenty, I will look back and say that you were right to do it.

“That you are an honorable person who made informed choices and changed your mind when presented with new information? This is not a flaw that your friends must forgive. It is a strength that their hurt prevents them from seeing. When they are thinking clearly again, they will respect you, and they will accept that you did not betray their trust.”

Romanov was silent. They watched the sky as the moon moved slowly across the sky, almost pure white, yet still not bright enough to blot out the stars.

“You seem pretty calm about everything,” she commented at last. “I can’t imagine what the last month must have been like for you.”

T’Challa breathed in the warm, fresh air, focusing on the feeling of his chest expanding, his blood taking in oxygen. He had to pick one star to look at before he could answer.

“I learned a valuable lesson two months ago. One my father tried very hard to teach me. I learned that when one is powerful, calmness and forethought must overrule emotion in all cases, or else we will wake up to destruction we did not intend. I am only lucky that my lesson did not come at too high a cost. The same cannot be said for many.”

“No,” Romanov agreed after a pause. “It can’t.”

It was clear she was thinking something over, so T’Challa put his hands behind his head and concentrated on relaxing groups of muscles.

Eventually she spoke. “You know why I came up here?”

The calm and cheeky bluster in her voice was just a tad overdone, letting T’Challa hear a hint of hesitance underneath. Disarmed by yet another show of vulnerability, he spoke softly. “I do not.”

“When I was a little girl, they taught us to navigate by the stars.” She swallowed. “We learned outside in Russia, and then by star charts for other parts of the world. But it’s not the same as seeing them in person.

“When I defected to SHIELD, I was based in Los Angeles. I don’t know if you’ve been-” T’Challa shook his head, “- well, it has a lot of smog. I hated it. And you couldn’t see any stars. Clint took me out to the country for a while, and that was the first place I really felt at home. And the New Avengers Facility, you can see stars.

“I’ve had to start over so many times. The stars look different in foreign skies, but mainly they look different when the world below has changed on you. I can’t say how many times I’ve thought my life was over, but when I wake up… it’s still going on. I had an old instructor say that countries will rise and fall, but as long as we were adaptable, there would always be a place for us.”

“I know you have a moral, Miss Romanov,” T’Challa invited.

“The moral is that… the more things change, the more they stay the same. There might be aliens now, magic, superheroes. But that doesn’t change the need for a strong and cunning leader, for protection. The sun may set on Wakanda, but if you can read the stars, you’ll find your way home for the new day.”

She laughed quietly, breaking the tension. “I guess it’s a cheesy metaphor, but I always go to sit under the stars when I need to figure out where my life is going. And I can blame Clint for the cheesiness.”

T’Challa felt a smile creep onto his lips and allowed the solemnity to slip away, to be examined at some future date. “I understand the urge. I feel most at peace when I am outdoors.”

Romanov turned to grin at him, a wide, joyful thing, the relief at the end of a battle. “Don’t tell anyone, but I love camping. I’ve only done it on missions, but a campfire, fishing, sleeping in the empty woods? Just about heaven.”

Despite himself, T’Challa chuckled. “I will not tell.”

They shared the silence again. The smile faded from T’Challa’s face slowly, and new thoughts made the march in. He bit his lip, an old habit that should have been gone, and decided to ask his question, even if it would give away the game.

“Why have you told me these things? I cannot imagine that candor comes easily to you.”

“You enabled Steve to rescue my friends from prison,” Romanov returned evenly. “I owe you.”

That did not sit well in T’Challa’s heart. “Perhaps you owe me goodwill,” he told her. “You do not owe me your private thoughts.”

“A lot of people would disagree,” commented Romanov. “A lot of people with less reason than you for wanting someone like me in their debt.”

“I am not one of those people,” T’Challa returned, barely holding in a growl. He sat half up to glare down at her.

Romanov tilted her head. Her eyes and mouth were soft, an unsettling response to T’Challa’s indignation. “And that’s why I can talk to you.”

T’Challa’s cheeks burned as the breeze ruffled Romanov’s short-cut hair. She remained still, waiting for him to do the math.

He came to the roof wanting to make an ally of the Black Widow, and with the smaller desire to comfort a woman whose friends were nursing bruised pride instead of embracing her. He had accomplished both of these goals, but only because Romanov allowed him the opportunity to prove himself. And in return, he must admit that she had charmed and made an ally of him.

Maybe even a friend.

T’Challa’s body made a smack as he let it fall back to the rooftop. He laughed loudly as he stretched out. “And you say you are off the clock. Your tricks are head and shoulders above the politicians I spend my days courting.”

“You think my friends count as polite company?” Romanov raised an ironic eyebrow, teasing. “I have to play all sorts of games just to keep them from pranking me. Spies are the worst.”

“A while ago, I would have said the same,” T’Challa admitted. Then he raised an eyebrow at her. “But lately, I have begun to see their advantages.”

Romanov rolled her eyes and T’Challa laughed again, feeling as big as the sky.


End file.
